Understanding
by Pepper Walker
Summary: What drove Tate to end the lives of fifteen classmates? Tate/OC
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first American Horror Story fic. I hope you enjoy it. I own nothing.**

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><p><em><strong>Understanding<strong>_

"I want to go to a football game," Adelaide Langdon announced at dinner.

Tate stared confused at his sister, while Constance slammed her fork down.

"Why would you want to do that?" Tate asked. "Only assholes go to games."

"Says the track star," Adelaide snapped. She looked between her family members. "I want to go. I want to feel like I belong."

Tate wanted to tell her that she _did_ belong. She was his big sister, and he loved her, which he wasn't sure held true for their mother. Before he could, there was a soft knock at the back door. He smiled to himself, knowing exactly who it was, but feeling slightly let down that his mother didn't notice his rude departure.

Julie Gray stood in the afternoon light. Her dark hair was loose and curling wildly, a sign that Tate knew she hadn't taken the time to blow dry her hair. He wanted to ask her what the hurry was about, but he knew she'd tell him if there was something to worry about.

"Hi honey," she said, wrapping him in a tight hug. She was radiant with happiness.

"Hi," he said softly. When she released him, he took her hand and led her through the house. He stopped by the dining room first. Apparently, things were escalating.

"You can't go, Addy!" Constance yelled. "You aren't normal! You won't fit in! I will not take you!"

"I will," Julie said, in a voice that was soft but firm. All eyes turned to the pale girl.

'I can't burden you, Julie," Constance said, dismissing the matter with her hand and taking a swig of vodka.

"Addy is never a burden!" Tate snapped, making every lady present jump. He looked to his sister. "There's a game tonight. Julie and I will take you."

Adelaide smiled and jumped up from her seat. "I have to get ready!"

She ran up the stairs to her room, leaving Julie to accompany Tate to his own room.

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><p>"I'm actually looking forward to the football game," Julie said with a sigh, snuggling against Tate's body.<p>

He laughed, the warmth of her skin against his own was comforting. "Why would that be?"

She looked at him almost uncertainly. "It will be our first family outing."

Tate's mind went into hyperdrive. For some reason, his mind refused to come to a conclusion on how to feel. "Are.. are you...?"

"I'm pregnant, Tate," she said gently, as though talking to an escaped mental patient.

He was panicked, but he rode it out and forced himself to think about it. Julie wasn't some tramp turning up after a one night stand. She was special. When he thought only Adelaide understood him, she appeared out of nowhere, and proved him wrong. When he got angry, she held his hand, and talked him down. She loved his sister. She encouraged him to go out for track, as a way to cope. She was helping him kick his coke addiction. Julie had a faith in him that no one else had. And she was giving him a baby.

A light came on in his mind. A baby. He was going to be a dad. He wasn't going to run away from his responsibilities like his own dad. He wouldn't abuse this innocent thing like his own mother had done to his siblings. He would teach his son to become a better man than he was, or protect his princess from the evils of the world. He imagined snuggling it and spoiling it rotten. And just like that, to his own surprise, Tate Langdon was ready to be a father.

"We have to tell my family," he said excitedly, springing up and throwing his shirt back over his head. Julie flopped back against his pillows and sighed in relief.

"Mom!" he yelled, rushing done the stairs. He heard Julie trying to catch up behind him. "Addy!"

Both were in the livingroom, and Tate realized that they had been waiting for him and Julie anyway.

"What is it Tate?" Constance asked, taking a long drag from her cigarette. "Come to tell me again how awful I am?"

"Julie's pregnant."

Tate watched as his mother waffled for a response while his sister leapt from her seat to hug him. Before he knew what hit him, Constance was hugging him too.

"Oh Tate," Constance said softly. "A sweet little baby could heal our family."

For the first time since he could remember, Tate hugged his mother.

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><p>The game had ended and Tate, Julie and Adelaide were walking home in the dark. Adelaide couldn't stop talking about the fun she'd had, and how she was convinced one of the boys on the team kept winking at her. She and Julie were giggling like children.<p>

"Ha!" came a loud voice from across the street. The group turned to see several boys, none of which they recognized. "Are you doing community service, or is she just ugly?"

Julie pulled Adelaide towards her as Tate took a step towards them. "Excuse me?"

"Why are you with that retard?" The group burst into laughter. Tate heard Julie gasp.

There were no words; he didn't even look back at his sister. Tate made a gutteral roar and charged towards them, his rage giving his feet wings. He didn't notice the car that almost clipped him, just that the boys were turning to run.

He chased them down the street. The group in front of him obviously were scared; no one made to turn but rushed blindly forward. He was vaguely aware of the girls running on the opposite side of the street. Then he heard Julie yell, "Addy, no!"

A few heartbeats passed, then screeching tires, and a sickening thud. The boys in front of Tate had stopped and turned back. Tate stopped and turned.

He heard Adelaide scream before he saw anything. He saw a dark car, with several shadowed people halfway out.

"Oh my god, dude," one of the passengers cried. "We have to get out of here!"

The others agreed and sped off, but Tate was only vaguely aware of the sound. His legs suddenly had trouble holding him up. Adelaide was on her knees, looking down at a what looked like a large rag doll. He ran to them on unsteady feet, collapsing beside Julie's broken body. He scooped her up in his arms, holding her close.

"She pushed me," Adelaide said between sobs. "She saved me, Tate."

Tate's eyes and nose burned. He had started crying and hadn't noticed. Julie's eyes fluttered open.

"Julie, stay with me," he wimpered.

"You know," she whispered. She took a rattling breath. "I can't do that, honey."

"You have to. What am I supposed to do without you?"

"Be good, Tate." The corner of her mouth quivered in an attempt to smile. "Be happy."

"I can't without you."

"Try."

Her breaths were more labored; he didn't have much time left. Luckily sirens were coming.

"I love you, Julie," he whispered, kissing her gently. "Don't make me say goodbye."

"I love," she answered slowly. "You too, Tate."

She managed a weak smile. Paramedics arrived, pulling him off of her and getting her into the ambulance. Tate sat in the waiting room of the hospital for hours, before he was told that mother and child had perished.

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><p>Tate couldn't focus. He dropped track, hiding away in the library, trying to escape into the imaginary worlds contained there. He went back to coke. He started cutting again, to remind himself that he still could feel things physically. But that was it. Tate was dead inside. His mother started screwing around with the neighbor, and Tate hated her for ignoring him when he needed her most. He knew he'd lost it anyway; he swore that even a month after losing her, he saw her everywhere. She even spoke to him, but it was only a few words here and there, nothing to prove he wasn't delusional.<p>

Then Larry killed his brother Beau. He knew that's what happened, even though the ghost of Beau wouldn't say it. Larry was responsible for his brother's death just as much as he was responsible for his wife and daughters's deaths. He had wanted to explain his need for Larry's repentence; that Tate knew what it was like to be completely unable to save your family. But Tate never got the chance. Constance never let him speak about it for reasons she never gave. Staring across the table at the man who took not only Tate's but his own family for granted, Tate knew what he had to do.

He was almost to Westfield High when he saw Julie again.

"Please, Tate," she pleaded. "I know what you're doing and you can't."

"Somebody has to pay," he said evenly. "They never found out who took you away from me."

"It won't bring me back, Tate."

"Yeah, but it will bring me closer to you."

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><p>The gun shots rang out across the neighborhood from the upstairs bedroom. Outside of Murder House, however, someone else was screaming. Julie tried to enter the yard, but something stopped her.<p>

"No," she sobbed. "This can't be happening. Tate!"

"You can't get in there," Kyle said, coming up behind her. "We tried already. Ghosts can't go in, Ghosts can't come out."

Julie jumped at being surrounded by the victim's of Tate's rampage. She blinked away more tears. "So, what, I'll never see him again?"

Her cousin Chloe wrapped her in a hug. "I'm afraid so, sweetie."

No one could take their eyes off the house. The dead teenagers huddled around the front gate as though being together gave them comfort.

"Do you think he'll remember me? Remember what he did?" Julie sniffed. Chloe stroked her hair.

"No," Stephanie said sadly. "At least not the way we will. I read about this in a psychology text book. That's the way our minds work. Whenever something is too unpleasant or shameful to entertain, we reject it. His guilt over not saving you and killing us will erase us from his memories, and make it all feel like a bad dream."

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><p><strong>Please no flames. This isn't canon in any way, and it wasn't trying to be. I'm sure this was better in my head. God, I'm insecure. .<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**I decided to elaborate more on Tate and Julie's relationship thanks to ShiloCoulter and lepetiterose. Special thanks to Shilo for being so helpful and encouraging.**

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><p>Tate Langdon was fifteen when his life changed forever. He stood under the football field bleachers like usual, waiting for his connection. He was half blind with his need, and he was extremely impatient.<p>

"He's sick," came a quiet voice.

Tate jumped. He thought he'd been alone. He turned towards the voice. A dark haired girl was sitting against the supply shed on a stack of milk crates. "What?"

He focused on this girl who seemed to have just appeared. She was pale. A thin cloud of smoke hung around her, coming from the joint in her right hand. She was wearing a black Nirvana t-shirt that clung to her in a very flattering way, and a short, red plaid patterened skirt. Black, thigh highed stockings clung to legs that ended in a pair of black Chuck Taylors. A small purse sat beside her.

She took a drag from her joint and released it slowly. "Your guy. He lives in my neighborhood. He's sick, so you're out of luck today."

"Oh," Tate said automatically, since he had nothing to say. He turned to leave.

"That shit's bad for you anyway," she called after him.

He turned back around. His focus on her was clearing his head out, and his addiction wasn't as suffocating as it had been. "What about you? That's bad for you too."

She looked down at the joint in her hand and shrugged. "So it is."

He watched as she flicked it out of her hand and got off her makeshift throne. "You can just drop it like that?"

She walked towards him, throwing a casual look over her shoulder before looking back at him. "It was a mistake anyway, so I guess I should thank you for interrupting me, and reminding me that I'm an idiot."

"You're welcome, I guess," Tate mumbled.

The girl was within arm's length when he scratched absentmindedly at his arm. She stared intently at his wrist. "You need someone to talk to, man?"

He glanced down, realizing what she had seen. "My house sucks."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she said. "Blood and coke doesn't help."

"What are you," he scoffed. "My sponsor?"

She blinked and shrugged. "Sure."

"What?" he asked, watching as she fished around in her purse and removed a black permanent marker. She grabbed him by the scarred wrist and pulled the cap off the marker with her teeth. She wrote a series of numbers up his forearm before releasing him and recapping her marker and returning it to her purse.

She tapped his wrist. "Next time you want to do that, before you grab a razor or a rock, call me."

She started to walk away, replacing the bag on her shoulder. Tate was left alone again, watching the girl disappear around the corner.

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><p>Tate stared at the bag on his desk, pacing back and forth in front of it. He wanted nothing more than to dive into it and bury his pain but he couldn't. He bit his nails and worried his lower lip, fighting off the sensory memory of the powder in his nose and mouth. A growing part of him wondered why he was fighting. Thoughts of that strange girl crept through. He looked down at the digits on his forearm. He grabbed the phone in his room and frantically dialed.<p>

"Hello?" A woman's voice answered. She sounded older.

"Hi," Tate fumbled. He realized the girl hadn't given him her name. Fuck. "Er, a girl gave me this number today..."

"Hold on," the woman said. He heard her voice sound far away as she yelled, "Julie, some boy is on the phone!"

He heard a click and a rustling before the girl answered. "Ok, I've got it, Mom."

There was another click and Tate knew they were alone.

"I was hoping you'd call," she said in a way that sounded like she'd known he would.

"You never gave me your name," Tate said.

"Oh, whoops," her voice was blank. "But in all fairness, you never gave me yours either."

"I'm not the one writing my number on the arms of coke heads under the bleachers at school."

The was a beat of silence. "Touche. So you admit you're a cokehead, then?"

It was Tate's turn to be silent. He looked back at the bag. "I guess I am."

"Admitting it is the first step. Do you have any right now?"

"Yeah, it's on my desk."

"Meet me at the park by the school. I'll give you a half hour. A minute longer and I'll know that you weren't ready."

Tate never made it to the park. It was much easier to settle in to his old routine.

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><p>He didn't see Julie around school, but he wasn't actively looking for her. No, he only kept an eye out in case she confronted him. He didn't see her anywhere. He called her again that night, and every night there after for a week. Every night she told him to meet her in the same place, giving him the same time limit, and every night he would give in to his personal demon.<p>

The next day he dialed her and she answered on the first ring. "What?"

It took him a second to respond. "What?"

"What do you want, Tate?"

He was taken by surprise by the hostility. "You told me I could call."

She was becoming increasingly angry in tone. "If you wanted the help. I've been trying, but it's clear to me that you don't."

"But I do!"

"Then prove it, junkie. I'll be where we met at lunch tomorrow. If you're serious, show up and we'll talk. If not, quit calling me and pulling my dick."

Tate didn't respond. He felt blindsided.

He heard an imaptient sigh. "You can't dig your way out of it yourself."

She hung up. Tate replaced the receiver back in the cradle and glared at the bag. She made him angry. Why would she talk to him that way? Well, he would show her. He gathered up the bag and dropped it in his drawer.

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><p>Julie was exactly where she said she'd be the next day. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was wearing a t shirt and worn, ripped jeans. She seemed engrossed in the paperback book she was holding. He said nothing as he approached, stopping uncomfortably close to her.<p>

"How nice of you to show up this time," she said curtly, punctuating it with the flip of a page. "Did you run out of blow?"

"Actually no," Tate snapped. "I haven't had any for two days."

She looked up and snapped the book shut. "Oh? How do you feel?"

"Like shit," he answered. "I woke up this morning shivering and throwing up. My mom wanted me to stay home, she was so worried."

"Then why didn't you?" Her face had softened and looked a little worried.

He suddenly felt very embarassed. He shifted for one foot to the other. "I didn't want you to think I bailed again."

She smiled, but it was a sad smile. She reached out and placed her palm against his cheek. He went still under her hand, letting her tilt his face down. Her eyes shone brightly from a distance so close that if he sighed, he'd be kissing her. It occured to him in that moment that he really wanted to.

"Thank you," she said softly. "You can do this, Tate. You don't need it."

She released him and he pulled back to let out a shuddering breath. "And you'll help me?"

She nodded, climbing off of her milk crate throne. "Of course."

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed it. Any questions, suggestions, etc. feel free to message me. :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to everyone who's been reading. It means so much to me.**

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><p>"It's been a week," Tate said, rolling the ball across the floor. "And I haven't used. Not once. You should be proud."<p>

Beauregard smiled as he rolled the ball back to his brother. He nodded, then made a gesture to his hair. Tate knew what he meant.

"Yeah," he said, trying not to laugh. He rolled the ball back. "Julie is my inspiration."

Beau started laughing as the ball sped back. "Julie."

"Well," Tate said, as their game continued. "She's pale with long brown hair. Her eyes are dark, and she has a pretty smile. She's really smart and nice. We meet up every night at the park and go for walks, and when the moonlight hits her face, she glows like an angel."

Beau laughed again and patted his chest softly. "Tate love Julie?"

"Maybe," he said, averting his eyes from the boy in the corner. He blushed. "I think about her all the time. I even dream about her."

His face slackened. He remembered the last dream he'd had about her.

_She was stretched out beneath him, on his bed. They were having sex, and it was the most glorious thing Tate Langdon had ever imagined. He reached down with his right hand as his left held her wrists together above her head; unable to control himself and knowing with an excited terror what was going to happen next. He produced a knife and brought it up for her to see. She looked from the knife to Tate in a hazy confusion; too caught up in ecstacy to comprehend his intensions. He brought it to her throat slowly, relishing in the growing panic of his victim. She was crying, trying to pull herslef out of his iron grip._

_"No," her voice was weak and sad. "Please, don't do this, Tate."_

_"Shh," he had whispered, pulling his hand back. He stroked her quivering lips with his thumb in a loving gesture. "Let me save you."_

_Her eyes shut and she sobbed quietly, accepting her fate. His mind went to a soft place, full of static and far away from where he was. He brought the knife quickly across her throat and her eyes opened wide. She made frightened, gurgling noises, starting to thrash against him once more. The sight of her blood and her sudden movements excited him, and he started to thrust again. Her eyes locked with his as the light finally left them, and he came._

He shivered, as though shaking the memory off of him. He looked back at his brother, who only knew innocence, and pretended to be the brother Beau deserved. "I'm sorry, Beau. Did you say something?"

Beau smiled as if he knew a secret. "Julie love Tate?"

Tate blushed again, before looking morosely back at the floor. "I don't think so. She wants to help me. She deserves far better than me."

Beau stood and shambled over. He smiled. "Beau love Tate."

Tate reached out and held his brother tight. "I love you too, buddy. Now I have to go do my homework, but I'll be back up to play tomorrow, okay?"

He let go and walked to the door. Beau scrambled after him as far as he was able.

"Mama," Beau said hopefully.

Tate sighed and hid his sadness. He smiled instead. "I'll tell her to come up right away."

Hours later and Constance had finally come home. By then Beau was hysterical and couldn't be calmed, so Constance left him there. Adelaide, in concern for her little brother, begged her mom to let Beau out. This did nothing but sentence her to a night in the mirror room.

The screams had grown so loud and consuming that Tate began to think they were coming from inside him. The wordless cries of his siblings went through him and racked him with hated himself for not trying to help them; for being too weak to save them. He knew that trying to help them would only make matters worse for all of them; he'd tried before.

He paced around his room and chewed on his nails, trying to think of something to take his mind off of the crying. He tried turning up his radio and stomping around, to block out the noise. Then he heard Addie cry for him, and it tore at the very core of him.

He sat at his desk, glancing at the drawer that held his stash. He felt the familiar burn in his nostrils just by thinking about it. He pushed the thought away and looked for something else. His siblings were suffering and he wasn't going to be selfish. He instead pulled a razor out of another drawer and set it out. He rolled up his sleeve, then stopped. He gently touched his right wrist, remembering the promise he had made.

He turned down the stereo and picked up the phone. It rang quite a while and for a moment Tate wondered if she would answer. She always had until now.  
>She didn't disappoint him. There was a click and then a somewhat annoyed, "Hello?"<p>

Tate wasn't sure what to say. He tried to think of the right words without sounding weak. He heard Addie and Beau's cries echo through the phone.

"Who is this?" Julie's voice was frightened. He hated it. Then Addie cried for him again and he knew Julie had heard. "Tate?"

"Yes," he said softly, trying hard to not let her hear the tears that threatened to betray him.

"The park, now," she said quickly. "I'll be there waiting."

He only heard the dial tone for a moment before he hung up. He ran down the stairs, ignoring the cries and the guilt that he was escaping when they could not.

"Forgive me," he whispered, before he turned and fled.

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><p><strong>Hope you guys liked it. I've already started working on the next chapter, so it should be out soon. I normally don't like begging for reviews, but they're the only way I know people like my work, so please? :)<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Next chapter! Let's get this show on the road.**

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><p>Like how it always was with them, Tate saw her before she saw him. She was sitting on top of the of the jungle gym with her knees tucked under her chin. He could tell from the pants she wore that she was in her pajamas. She had a hooded jacket wrapped around her and on her feet were the same chuck taylors. Her hair was an untidy mess of volumous curls. She was staring at the moon, wringing her small hands and chewing her lower lip. She was worried.<p>

"I'm here," he said, anouncing his presence. Julie turned and scrambled about until she was on the ground and running to him. She leapt at him, taking him totally by surprise as she burrowed against him in an embrace.

"I'm glad you're ok," she said.

He slid his arms around her, not sure what else to do. "Thank you."

She pulled away and took a step toward the street. "Shall we?"

Tate nodded, and fell into step with her. They walked around in silence for a while until she broke it. "What's going on, Tate?"

He hadn't been prepared to talk yet, so he said the first thing that came to mind. "Why don't you ever want to go home?"

She stopped and looked at him as though he'd punched her in the gut. "What did you say?"

He felt uncomfortable. "Well, we're always talking about me and my problems. I thought for a change we could talk about your problems."

"You are the one who called me," she snapped defensively. "I came because of what I heard at your house!"

Julie took a few steps away and stood with her back to him for a long while. He watched her look about as though she wasn't trying to see anything and sighed heavily. He walked up to her and gently put his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I understand if you don't want to talk about what happened. We can talk about it when you're ready."

"I'll just go," Tate said, and turned to leave.

"No," he heard Julie say, and felt her grab his sleeve. He looked down at her hand first, then up to her eyes. He let her pull him towards her. "You asked me a question, and I'll answer it."

When he was by her side she let him go, wringing her hands instead. She started walking again and Tate moved with her.

"I don't like being at home," she said softly. Her eyes were trained some place far away in front of her. "I love my mom. She is my best friend, but she hasn't had the greatest luck with guys. My mom and dad weren't even friends anymore by the time I was born, so she's always tried to find some guy to complete our family. Mom has dated alot of guys. Some have touched me, and some have hurt me, and every time that happens, we move away and try to start over. Mom really loves her new boyfriend, but she doesn't see how he really is. She works at night, so it's me and him at the house most of the time. He calls me an evil little monster, and tells me I ruined my mother's life. It doesn't matter what I tell my mother; she's too in love to leave him, and for once I feel... I don't know, like I'm where I'm supposed to be. So instead of staying where I'm always sad, I leave, and walk until life isn't so bad anymore. And I get to help you. Aren't you lucky?"

Tate's heart broke a little for her. How could anyone think Julie was a monster, when she'd been the victims of so many monsters herself? He felt like a spoiled child again, crying about problems he didn't have. He wanted to help her, but he didn't know how.

"It's a filthy goddamn world," he said. He gently touched her back.

Julie looked at him with eyes shining with unshed tears. She smiled and exhaled. "No, it really isn't, Tate. That's the thing. Sure, there's disease and poverty and violence, but there's also hope and joy and love. You just have to be brave and remember that those things exist."

"How?" he asked.

She wrinkled her nose in thought as she stared at him. "Well, it doesn't come easy. You just have to think. Like right now, a woman is bringing a baby into this world. A man is spending his last night as a single man. A kid is dreaming about something lovely; a world where there is no dark. An old married couple is shuffling somewhere together, hand in hand and just as in love as they were the moment they met. Some one is planning a future so bright, that their entire life until that point will be a dull memory."

"High school will be just a blip in the timeline," he said softly.

Julie smiled and nodded. "Right."

The rest of the night they walked together; close enough to touch but not doing so. Tate didn't know much. He didn't know how drive. He didn't know how to speak Spanish. He didn't know how to play tennis. But as the sun rose over the hills, he knew one thing: that he would love Julie Gray until the day he died.

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed it. Remember: I'm a writing machine and I run on reviews. Thanks for reading :)<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**This was the hardest chapter to write. I hope you enjoy it.**

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><p>Tate had been following silently behind Julie most of the night. When they met at the park, she told him she wanted to take him somewhere special. She then turned and started walking, moving purposefully. Something had changed. This night she was carrying a flashlight, which was good because she had turned off their normal route that was always brightly lit.<p>

She stopped so abruptly he almost tripped. She shined her flashlight over an opening in the chainlink fence they'd been walking next to. "You might want to pull your hood up before you go through. The first time it caught my hair and I had to cut myself off."

She flipped her hood up in one fluid motion and crouched, sliding through the gap with ease. He crouched low, following her footsteps.

They were walking in tall, unkept grass. They hit a step incline and Tate fell back a little further to enjoy the view. He hadn't spent much time behind her, so he never got to fully appreciate how her jeans clung to the curve of her ass. He fought off the sudden desire to touch it.

The ground plateaued out to a small spattering of trees. Julie went to a large tree and hoisted herself up. She moved like a cat across the lowest branch, settling on a spot near the middle of the branch. She patted the spot beside her. Tate followed her example, sitting as close to her as he could without touching her.

She ran her small hands over the bark of the tree. "I come here a lot to think. There's something about the melding of nature and industry that inspires me."

"Inspires you?" He said, looking out at the city lights.

"Yeah, I write."

"Can I ask what?"

She made a nervous gesture. "I write music, mostly. I want to be a song writer."

Julie looked at his face. She smiled and let out a small snort.

"You wouldn't like it," she said. "It isn't grunge. It used to be really depressing, because I would do it to keep my mind off of using. It was good to get it all out. Now that I realized I want to take it as a career path, I change tones and themes more frequently than I change my underpants."

She looked up above them and Tate followed suit. Where the stars had being shining down were clouds, crowding together. Her hand went automatically to her hair, and she pulled on a curl. He watched as it sprung back into place.

"It's going to rain," she said absently. "I love the rain."

Thunder rolled as though punctuating the statement. She smiled and clasped her hands together. Rain began to fall, slowly at first then picking up speed. Julie dropped out of the tree and raised her arms above her head. She spun around, laughing.

"Come on, Tate!" she yelled. "You'll get struck by lightning up there!"

He hopped down and moved from the tree to where she danced. She was happy and beautiful.

_Kiss her_, his mind whispered. _Quit being such a pussy and kiss her!_

Before he could act on his thoughts, they were illuminated.

"You're trespassing on a private property!" A man's voice yelled from behind the glare of a flashlight. He was moving towards them. "I'm calling the cops."

"Oh fuck," Julie laughed. She turned. "Run!"

She went full speed down the hill; Tate barrelling down behind her. They dove through the hole in the fence, thankfully without their hair snagging. They continued running until Julie stopped and grabbed her knees. Tate ran past her a few steps before stopping and going back to her.

"Are you okay?" he spoke between the cracks of thunder in a worstening storm.

She stuck one finger up in response. She stood up slowly.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm just a little out of breath. You aren't tired?"

He paused then shrugged.

"Maybe that's what you can do," she said. "I have my writing. Maybe you should try out for track?"

Tate made a face and shook his head. "Then I'll be just like all those other assholes. Is that what you want, for me to fade away into that?"

"No, Tate," she snapped. She shrugged in a defeated way. She looked up at him sadly, thoroughly soaked by the downpour. "I want you to get better. I come every time you call. I do all I can. I do everything for you that they suggest to do in books when you're a sponsor. Obviously, I must be a shitty sponsor if you still need to see and talk to me every day. You aren't getting better, and I'm just a broken record at this point, saying the same things over and over. I can't help you anymore."

She looked at him for a moment in silence and then started walking past him. It occured to him that she was giving up, and he didn't know if this was the end of contact with her. He couldn't let her go.

"Julie, wait!" he yelled. She turned to face him and he went to stand directly in front of her. "I have these thoughts. Bad, bad thoughts and memories I can't get rid of. All I want is to be a good person and not have these horrible, monstrous thoughts. It gets so bad sometimes that I want to put a gun to my head and paint the walls with the darkness inside. But I don't have a bullet. I want you to be the bullet that blows away every bad thing I think of."

She moved quickly, grabbing his face in both her hands and pulling him forward into a kiss.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think.<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the support! I'm sorry these chapters have been so short. I'm really trying to make nice, long chapters but it doesn't seem to be working.**

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><p>The day was clear and pleasant in the early spring weather. The sun warmed his bare legs and arms. He was crouched, his fingers barely touching the ground. This felt wrong; he felt exposed. From this point on, there would be no blending in. Everyone would know who he was, regardless of the result. Why was he doing this again?<p>

"Woo!" he heard Julie whoop from the bleachers. She was clapping emphatically, standing over a group of girls that were giggling softly. "Go Tate! You can do it!"

He snickered. Oh yeah, that's why.

The coach turned towards the bleachers. He spoke into his megaphone. "That is enough, Miss Gray."

"Sorry!" She yelled back unapologetically, before sitting down again. She smiled smugly, and did a small wave. She blew him a kiss.

Tate glanced at the boys on either side of him, then at the boys who had already run, and the ones yet to go. He was up against last year's team in these try outs, and it was very intimidating. He felt Julie's support radiating from her, warming him like the sun overhead. He was glad she begged him to try out. He liked running, and he liked making her feel proud.

The coach fired the starter pistol and off they went. The cheering of onlookers faded, overcome by the sound of his sneakers meeting the pavement. He poured his entire being into moving. He watched the competition fall away behind him, and with every boy that he passed, he became more confident. He felt totally and completely alive. When he crossed the finish line, he saw the disbelief in the crowd, but not in Julie, who was running down to meet him.

"It's not official yet," the coach said to him. He clapped Tate on the shoulder. "But welcome to the team, Mr. Langdon."

"I am so proud of you!" she said, beaming. She went to embrace him.

"You don't want to do that," he said, holding his hands up. He took a step back. "I'm all sweaty and gross."

"Do I look like I give a shit?" she said, closing the gap and throwing her arms around his neck. She kissed him in the chaste way she always did at school, innocent and sweet, just like how he saw her.

There was an outburst behind them. It was a sound that until that moment Tate had only associated with television audience's witnessing something scandalous. He turned to see a dark haired cheerleader approaching them, flanked by a boy in a letterman's jacket, and another cheerleader.

The dark haired cheerleader smiled well naturedly. "Careful Jules, you're letting your slut show."

"Give it a rest, Chloe," Julie laughed and released Tate to walk to the dark haired girl. "I'd hug you, but I'm covered in man stink."

"Yeah, keep that to yourself." Chloe had none of the razor malice that Tate was used to hearing from her type. She smiled at him, and he was impressed to see that it was genuine. "You must be the guy I heard about all Christmas break. I'm Julie's cousin, Chloe Stapleton. This is Jason and this is Molly."

The two people with her made noncommittal noises and gave slight nods. He could tell that they were sizing him up, but he wasn't sure why.

"Tate Langdon," he answered, feeling slightly pleased. His relationship with Julie was reaching the sixth month mark, and he had been extremely insecure about not seeing her on vacations.

She fumbled about, reaching out to shake his hand as though it were an automatic gesture, but not wanting to touch his sweaty palm. He watched her face scrunch up in slight disgust and then immediately changing back to a friendly smile. She was having an inner battle with her expressions, and he found it somewhat endearing that a person he originally had written off to be a bitch was actually trying very hard to not offend him. He decided that maybe she wasn't as terrible as he had assumed.

"Well, congratulations on the track thing," she said, and sounded as though she meant it. Her henchmen nodded, looking as though they desperately wanted to depart. Maybe it was too much to hope for that all jocks were as considerate as Chloe seemed to be. The group moved past them towards the football field. "See you later, Cuz."

"I never knew your cousin was a cheerleader," he said. They lingered, watching Chloe join the gaggle of cheerleaders and start stretches. She was focused and not looking towards them.

Julie shrugged.

"She's not too bad; just a cheerleader." She looked down. She added, teasing, "Nice legs."

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading. You all are wonderful! If you feel so inclined, please review. The next chapter will be up as soon as I can get it up.<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you all for reading and a special thanks to Superdani a.k.a Gillian Smith! Your reviews are always so encouraging!**

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><p>"Tate?" Julie's voice was soft. She looked up at him with big eyes. She was going to ask him for something. He could feel it, and it wasn't going to be good.<p>

"What?" He asked. He'd give her the moon if he could.

"Maybe I could come with you, to your house? "

"No!" he said quickly cutting her off. She jumped. He didn't want her to ever go there. She was too full of light and goodness. The darkness would claim her in no time. "Maybe some other time."

"Oh," she said softly. She seemed to think for a minute before adding, "You never want me to go with you."

"To be fair, you've never invited me over to your house, either."

"I would, it's just-well, things are complicated at home."

Julie looked down sadly. Tate squeezed her hand reassuringly. He smiled. "I promise, when I know it is okay I will bring you home with me."

She brightened and put her hand on his far cheek. She pulled his face toward her and kissed the opposite cheek.

"How about we even it out?" He said, tapping his cheek with a grin.

"Well if you insist," she giggled. He moved at the last second, capturing her mouth with his own. He snaked his arms around her, pressing her against him and intensifying the kiss. She made a soft squeak. He felt her gently push against his chest and she broke the kiss.

"Whoa there, cowboy," she said against his lips. She pulled back far enough to look at his face but not so far to be out of his arms. "Slow down. We're on your block and I have to go home. I've got a ton of homework."

Tate made a face. "Fine, but you owe me some serious time tonight."

"I think that's a debt I'm willing to pay." She kissed him again, quick this time, and turned swiftly in the opposite direction. He watched her until she turned a corner and disappeared from view.

He dragged his feet the rest of the way to his house. The moment his feet hit the property he felt a familiar chill run through him. That was another reason he didn't want Julie coming home with him. His current address was the infamous Murder House.

The place knew nothing but pain; happiness was an alien thing here. It was alive with the spirits of those who had lost their lives there. Tate believed in ghosts. This house made you a believer.

The house wasn't his, of course. The house used to belong to his family, until his dad took of when he was six. Then his mother couldn't afford to keep the place and was forced to move next door, to a small but cheerful house. It had been bought outright by uppity grandparents had never and probably will never see. It was a gift to Constance for having the dignity to abstain from on screen nudity. It was a place to call home while she tried to find footing as a lady.

But she craved to live in that house, for reasons she never explained. Every man who moved in was pursued aggressively until they moved her and her family in. The present victim was a doctor with serious issues. He looked at Tate in a way he didn't like, but it's not like that mattered to Constance; it hadn't before.

"Tate's home!" he heard Addie yell from the kitchen, just like she did every day.

"How about you two go play with Beau until William gets home?" He heard Constance yell. "Then we'll have dinner."

Addie appeared from around the corner and accompanied Tate to the attic.

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><p>"Tate?"<p>

He snapped out of his trance. He usually tuned everything out when William spoke, which seemed to be all the time. He noticed he'd eaten most of his dinner without knowing it. He looked over at his mother.

"You seem tired," Constance said. "Are you ill, son?"

"No," Tate said. "I am tired though. I, uh, made the track team today."

"Cool!" Addie cried and Constance smiled. William looked unimpressed.

"I am so proud of you, Tate," Constance said. "Whatever made you try out in the first place?"

Tate looked down at his plate. He didn't want her to know about Julie. Not yet. "Oh, I thought maybe if I got into a sport, I might get a scholarship."

"That's my smart boy," she said. "I'm glad you're thinking about your future."

"If he was so smart," William snapped. "He could get an academic scholarship."

Tate looked back down at his plate, as did his mother and sister. She'd never defend him if it upset her boyfriend. Living here was more important than protecting her children. Satisfied, William continued to eat.

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><p><strong>Thanks again for reading! Hope you enjoyed it and remember: Reviews are magic!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Happy reading!**

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><p>The three Langdon children were up in the attic. Adelaide held Beau as he cried, and Tate crouched by the door. He was poised to attack should it pop open. Downstairs, the fight raged on.<p>

Constance been nothing short of tolerable lately. She had brought Addie with her to watch Tate compete, and after every victory, took them out to dinner wherever Tate wanted to go. William never attended, and his distaste of his pseudo step-son was evident.

This night, Tate was listening to Nirvana and reading Dante's _Inferno._ It was a gift from Julie, and although it was written in the old English and the margins were full of notes, he was determined to read it. He wasn't halfway through _Hell_ before his door opened and Addie slipped in, looking a little frightened.

Tate sat up and turned off the music. "What's wrong, Addie?"

"They're fighting," Addie said. "It's bad. William is saying bad things."

He got off his bed and grabbed his older sister, dragging her out and down thehallway to the entrance to the attic. He pulled the stairs down and pushed Addie up them first. He followed, pulling the stairs up behind him as they went.

Beau was crying wordlessly, pacing the length of his tether.

"Calm Beau down," Tate ordered. "I've got the door."

Now they sat in the dark like the frightened children they were. The voices were fading, and he wasn't sure what was happening now. He went through a box close by with _Tate's old toys _scrawled carelessly across the side. He withdrew an old bat the Addie had given him many years ago.

He set it on the ground next to her. "I'm going down there. If William comes up, don't hesitate, okay?"

She nodded and continued to stroke Beau's hair.

Tate lowered the stairs and crept down. He pushed the trap door back up and walked slowly towards the stairs. The voices were coming from downstairs. He held tight to the banister, trying not to make a sound as he descended. He saw Charles Montgomery standing at the bottom of the stairs.

He looked up at Tate. "You should go back upstairs."

"What's going on?" Tate was confused. He rarely saw Charles out of the basement.

"Nothing you need to hear," he said, walking back towards the basement door. "An embarrassment to the practice of medicine. He's not a man."

As much as his gut told him to trust Charles and go back upstairs, his curiosity was a persistent nagging. They were in the living room. He slipped up to the entry way, peeking around the corner and eavesdropping.

William was standing with his back to Tate. He was a physically imposing man, well over six feet and built like a brick shit house. His mother was standing in front of the dead fireplace, looking small and frail by comparison. She was unafraid of the behemoth in front of her.

"You're stealing from me!" William accused.

Constance looked shocked, and yet amused. "I'm stealing from you? What exactly have I stolen from you? Your mind is gone, but I had no hand in that."

"My mother's jewelry, you bitch!" he growled.

Constance laughed condescendingly. "I did nothing of the sort! I put them away for safe keeping."

"You're lying! You've stolen them!" He fumed.

"Why would I steal your mother's ugly jewelry?"

"So you can live a comfortable life with the person you really want to be with."

"And who might that be?"

"That little freak of a son you have!"

There was a long silence. William was hysterical at this point. Tate was shocked, frozen to the spot. Constance looked sick.

"You can't be serious," she whispered.

"I am!" he yelled. "You are obsessed with him. It's disgusting, the way you are always so nice to him."

"He's my SON," she said, her voice dripping with disgust. "Are you sick? I love my children."

"You don't have children," his voice was low and warning. "You have monsters. That insufferable girl and that monster in the attic included."

If he said anything else, Tate didn't hear it. He ran at William, grabbing the lamp on the end table. He ripped it out of the wall and in at a full run, slammed it across William's shoulder blades, shattering the bulb. The lamp was heavy, bringing the big man to his knees. Tate hit him again, sending the man face first on the ground.

"Get out!" William yelled from the floor. "Take your freaks and get out of my house!"

Tate went to hit him again, but Constance put her hand on his shoulder.

"Go get them ready to leave," she said to him. "Pack what you can, we'll return for the rest."

He dropped the lamp and ran back to the attic. Addie had Beau behind her; the bat held up and ready to be swung down.

"Mom says we're leaving," he said quickly. "Grab what you can now, and we'll get the rest later."

Tate helped get his siblings ready and Constance sent them ahead.

"Goodbye William," she said to the man who still lied on the floor. She started to walk away and said loudly. "We're leaving. It would be a shame if you stuck around, though."

She reached the front door when she heard a loud noise behind her. She turned, seeing William leaning against the doorway that Tate had occupied not half an hour ago. "Where are my mother's jewels?" He roared.

Constance stared him down, before giving him a nasty look, "In the basement, you son of a bitch."

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading! I know this wasn't the happiest of chapters, but there are people like that out there. I also really wanted to get the Langdon's out of Murder House, so I just went crazy with it.<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Wow, it's been a while. I've been dealing with a lot of personal issues, and I've been obsessing over this because I had the worst writers block. Without further ado, the continuation.**

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><p>Tate always forgot how wonderfully uncomplicated life could be outside of the Murder House. Since his family moved out, he'd been happier. He'd been normal. The voices were soft echoes that he could ignore if he put in a little effort. He had lunch everyday with his girlfriend, her cousin, and whatever flavor jock she was dating that week. He led his school to victory at every meet, making sure that his family stayed far away from his girlfriend at these events. His grades improved as did his attitude towards life. Wrists went uncut and his nights were spent kissing under the stars. However, now that summer had arrived, it was harder finding legitimate reasons to leave the house without his mother knowing what was going on.<p>

Tate stuffed the last bit of supplies into his duffle bag. He glanced at himself in the mirror, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He was in swimming trunks and a T-shirt.

"Where are you going?"

Tate turned to see his sister leaning against his door frame.

"I'm going away for the night," he said.

"With your girlfriend?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah," Tate answered, grinning back at her in the mirror. "How'd you know?"

"I'm not stupid," Adelaide said matter-of-factly. "You couldn't hide her forever. You can't hide her from Mom forever, either."

"I know, but that doesn't mean that I should go volunteering the information. I can see it now…"

"So you're the little tramp my Tate's been catting around with," Addie imitated her mother's Southern drawl, miming a cigarette between her fingers. "You look like you never turn down a snack. Here, try a cupcake."

Tate made a face. "Or I can just spring it on her after I graduate."

Adelaide shrugged. "She's flirting with the new neighbor man, so she probably won't notice you're gone."

Tate frowned. The family had just moved in. "Isn't he married?"

Adelaide nodded slowly. Tate grumbled as he slung the bag over his shoulder. As he approached the door, Adelaide threw her arms around his neck. He hugged her.

"I'll be back soon," he told her.

"I know," she answered.

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><p>Tate was surprised any of this was happening. Julie's mother and her boyfriend had left for the weekend, leaving Julie with the house to herself. Their justification was that they'd been there for her birthday, so now they got to do something they wanted to do. So she'd invited him over to keep her company.<p>

The house was white, with blue shutters and a matching door. There were flowers lining the path to the house as well as around the front of the house. The lawn was green and neat. Trees here and there made a pleasant shade in places. All in all, the place looked cheerful.

He wondered what Julie would be doing right now. She might be in their pool, it was early afternoon, and it was hot out. That's why she told him to bring a bathing suit with his things. As he approached the house, he saw a large water gun propped against the front door. He dropped his bag on the porch and picked it up. It was heavy, full of water.

"Gotcha, Langdon!" He heard Julie yell aggressively. Tate turned, only to take a blast of water to his chest. Julie cackled gleefully.

"Oh you're gonna get it now!" He yelled back, lifting the water gun and returning fire. She cried out, retreating around the house. When he followed, she jumped out and got him again.

They played like this for some time, Julie having the advantage because Tate kept stopping. His mind kept wandering to the real guns in his house, and mowing people down. He'd lower his gun, fearing himself and she'd ambush him.

Finally, Tate's water ran out.

"Oh that's terrible, Tate!" She yelled, and squirted him.

"That does it!" he cried, hurling the gun away and running towards her. She shrieked excitedly and started running. She should have known better than to try to outrun her track star boyfriend.

He tackled her, sending them both to the ground. They both collapsed in laughter, Julie turning to look up at him.

"I love you, Tate," she said softly.

Her confession took him completely by surprise.

"You do?" He asked.

She gave him a large smiled and nodded. "I do."

"I love you too," he answered, lowering his face to hers.

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><p>After an afternoon of swimming and a home cooked meal that was so good Tate considered proposing to it, Julie declared that they would share the sofa bed and watch movies in their pajamas. She pointed him towards the bathroom then bounded up the stairs to change in her room.<p>

Tate looked at his reflection. He was in a ratty shirt and pajama pants. He was extremely nervous. He'd never shared a bed with anyone before. He stepped out as Julie came down the stairs in a tank top and cotton shorts. He also noticed with surprise that she wasn't wearing a bra. He wondered idly if the same were true for her panties. He watched her smile at him then go to the pull out, which was already made.

"Come on, Tate," she said with a giggle. "Stop staring."

He immediately went and sat on the pull out bed. Julie popped in the cassette before turning off the light and climbing under the covers. Tate settled in next to her.

She had picked a horror film. Of all the movies they could be watching, she had chosen a slasher flick. It was a good movie; truly frightening. At one point the killer appeared and jumped on his victim. Julie screamed with fear and burrowed into Tate. He looked away. She was frightened of an imaginary thing, yet she was clinging to a monster for comfort. If she knew what he was capable of, she'd run and never look back.

He shifted, moving to take her in his arms and give her the comfort she wanted. As his arm moved, his thumb brushed against the side of her breast. He froze his face hot with a blush. Of course he'd accidentally grope her in her moment of need. But it was strange. She wasn't angry or upset. She just looked at him with big, trusting eyes.

Julie moved towards him and started to kiss him. It was soft and sensual. Tender and loving. Tate didn't deserve all of the affection, but he wanted it desperately. He pressed her against him, returning her kisses with everything he had.

She made a noise and separated their lips. "You're, uh," he voice was quiet and breathless. She nodded her head down and he knew what she was talking about.

"Sorry," he answered, just as out of breath. He started to pull away, but she stopped him.

"Wait," she said. Those big, beautiful eyes boring into his soul. "I want to be with you, Tate."

He didn't know what was going on with his emotions. He wanted to, but at the same time, was scared to death about it.

"I don't want to hurt you Julie," he said. _I've wanted to hurt you since we met._

"You won't," she whispered. "I trust you."

But he did. She gasped and cried, and he held her until she told him she was okay. He reached out for her afterwards and she didn't push him away. She settled against him and closed her eyes. He waited for a long time before he figured she was asleep. He moved, and felt her arms tighten around him.

"Don't leave me, Tate," she mumbled; the words of someone talking in their sleep. "Promise?"

"I promise," he answered, and took her in his arms.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading! Review if you feel so inclined :)<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry about the huge delay with this, guys. I lost motivation for this for a long time because of an outside force. However, I have it again, if anyone wants me to continue this. If not, I will put it back on the shelf to gather dust.**

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><p>Tate woke up alone. It was disorienting, since he hadn't slept alone, but he'd slept well. He sat up, wondering what had woken him up when he took a deep breath and figured it out. The house smelled of cooking food. He pulled his pajamas back on, folded up the bed and went to investigate. Julie was standing at the stove, all burners running.<p>

"What is going on in here?" He asked with a chuckle.

Julie didn't turn from the food, but still answered brightly. "Breakfast. That is what's going on in here."

"You're amazing." He wrapped his arms around her waist, careful not to trap her arms while she cooked. He kissed behind her ear, exhaling against her skin. He kissed a lazy line down his neck and she laughed.

"Go sit down," she giggled, and turned to stick a piece of bacon in his mouth. He grinned and ate it, doing as he was told. In almost no time at all, Julie slid a plate in front of him: pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, biscuit and strawberries. Tate looked at her in shock.

"Sorry," she said, looking embarrassed. I could have sworn we had oatmeal. I must have eaten it all yesterday."

Tate blinked stupidly. "You think I'm upset I didn't get _oatmeal_?" He laughed as her expression continued to look apologetic. "You made all this amazing food and I'm used to just a pop tart."

He put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. "I will never in a million years deserve this."

Now it was Julie's turn to look confused as he kissed her. Tate wouldn't elaborate though, and like the angel she was, Julie didn't push for the answer.

Tate was still in his pajamas at Julie's breakfast table when her front door opened. Ms. Gray and her boyfriend entered and Julie went as still as the dead at the coffee maker. Even Tate was frozen with his fork halfway to his mouth when the pair entered the kitchen.

"Hello," Ms. Gray said in surprise. Her boyfriend gave a killer look to Julie behind her before he turned on his heel and left. Ms. Gray turned to her daughter. "Who's this young man who's made himself at home?"

Julie was completely silent, staring dumbly at her mother, but Tate sprang into action. He set the fork down and stood, holding his hand out. "Tate Langdon, ma'am. I'm Julie's boyfriend."

Ms. Gray gave him an impressed look before shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you, Tate. My name is Pam. Do your parents know where you are?"

Tate pressed his lips together in a hard line. "No ma'am."

Pam sighed. "I'm sorry for this, but I have to give them a call. Parent rules, I'm afraid, but feel free to stay longer if you'd like."

Tate nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

Pam smiled and turned to leave. She made it to the door before she turned around. "Nice catch, Jules."

Julie gasped and hurled a dish towel at her mother, who dodged it and exited, cackling in triumph. Tate received the same treatment when he proved unable to stop laughing himself.

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><p>When Tate arrived home, he wondered what Constance would have to say. He wasn't worried about himself, but he worried what would happen to Addie if she gave her opinion, which she always did when it came to him. He felt a gentle squeeze on his hand, and was reminded that Julie was with him. Tate hadn't been able to convince her not to come, and he was actually grateful. She'd put a lot of work into taming her hair and was actually wearing a dress, which he'd never seen her in.<p>

"It will be okay, Tate," she reassured him, and he wondered how it possibly could be.

Constance greeted them at the door with a condescending sneer and smoking a cigarette.

"And you are?" she all but growled.

Julie gave a small curtsy and smiled. "Julie Gray. I'm the girl that's in love with your son."

Constance and Tate both looked at her in surprise, but her confident smile never waivered.

Julie was having a pleasant conversation with Addie when Constance appeared in the sitting room. Both of the Langdon children eyed the plate their mother carried.

"How about something sweet, Julie?" she asked, holding out the plate of cupcakes. Addie looked at Tate from Julie's other side and Tate tried hard to come up with a way to knock the poisoned cakes onto the floor before Julie could touch them.

"No thank you, Mrs. Langdon," Julie answered, still genuinely smiling. "I've been trying to watch my weight. Thank you for overlooking it though. Why don't you have one? You look like you deserve something sweet."

There was a deafening silence that followed. Constance seemed entirely thrown. Tate and Addie sat in dumbstruck silence, an Julie sat with her hands folded in her lap, smiling as though she hadn't just dodged a night of throwing up. And then Constance smiled and Addie started to laugh. Tate grasped Julie's hand in solidarity. Everything would be okay, just like she'd told him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you for reading!**

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><p>Tate stayed silent as much as he could, walking from room to room. The only sounds he heard were his footfalls and his breathing. His face itched, and he tore at it to try and satisfy it. He heard a stampede up ahead and felt a dark satisfaction in the panic. No matter how many had seen him, no matter how leisurely he walked, he was still finding people who were slow to evacuate.<p>

He came around the corner and a saw few stragglers behind the heard. He could hear them all; hearts pounding, ready to burst and tears in their frightened breath. It was music on the air. He raised his gun towards the closest kid; some boy who he recognized from track tryouts but didn't know by name.

"Run little rabbit," he whispered, steadying his arms as he pulled the trigger. The boy fell boneless to the tile floor as the blast echoed down the hall.

Tate was about to continue up the stairs when he heard the muffled crying. He stood outside of the janitor closet, listening to the frightened sobs that whoever it was was trying to subdue. Just one person in there; one terrified person. He held the gun to the side, slowly opening the door. He could practically taste the bitter fear from the person trapped inside.

He didn't have time to register who it was before the mop hit him clear in the face. He stumbled back and whoever it was pushed past him. It was definitely a girl. She was small and smelled of the flowering clean smell that most girls naturally had. He righted himself and cocked the gun. The girl stopped, trembling pathetically. She turned to face him as he lifted the gun, ready to face her fate.

Julie stared at him with sunken and horrified eyes, her face wet and pale. Tate moved closer, his gaze and gun never faltering. She cringed away from him, and he saw her fight the instinct to flee from him. He finally lowered the gun when he was only a step away from her. She didn't move away, though she still trembled.

He slowly lifted his hand, delicately wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks. She didn't flinch, and he saw from the quivering lip and closed eyes that she wasn't here. She'd gone to her bedroom to listen to Paul and John ask to hold her hand. The park to lay in the grass. Maybe his bed where he'd told her he loved her while he worshipped her body with his. Wherever she was, it definitely wasn't here.

"Don't cry," he murmured. This had the opposite effect, and a large tear fell on his thumb. "Everything will be okay. I love you."

"I wish you didn't. I wish to God you hated me," she murmured and something deep within him shriveled. How could she not understand that he was doing all of this for love? If she understood, she'd be beside him, not before him. But if she understood, he'd hate her. This was better. Now he could save her. He could save her from the blackness that lived inside of him; keep it from taking her, too.

"I love you," he repeated, searching her eyes. She was gone again, her eyes focused on a point too far away for him to grasp. He placed his palm against her cheek, pleading her to answer. She blinked and her eyes met his. "I love you, Julie Gray."

She let out a pitiful sob, lowering her head and letting herself cry openly. He tilted his head, watching her. Finally, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes again.

"I love you back, Tate Langdon," she answered, her voice thick with her tears. She held his gaze and he knew. She loved him and feared him. She hated him, and hated herself for still loving him. She was sorry she met him, and sorry that she regretted knowing him. He could see it all, and he loved her for feeling it.

The gun weighed heavily on his arm, and he set it down. He moved his foot so that it lay between his feet. He held her face in both hands, and the fear in her eyes was so tangible he could almost touch it. He moved his face to hers and gently kissed her. Her lips were unyielding, and he kissed her again. Her mouth finally softened and melded against his. Her soft hands hesitantly touched his face. His breath hitched. This had to be quick.

He snapped her neck. Her body went limp, and he scrambled to catch her before she fell. He laid her down carefully, as though he was trying not to wake her. Her brown hair fanned out around her head like a dark halo; her face serene and no longer plagued with fear. He stood up and lifted the gun, giving the love of his life one last look before ascending the stairs toward the library.

* * *

><p>Tate awoke, sitting straight up and gasping. He hadn't had nightmares like that in months. He was sure Julie had cured it. Thinking about her made the dream come alive again. He could feel the wetness of her tears on his hands. The smell of gunpowder was in his nostrils, and he could hear her bitter, sad voice that wished that she hated him. He needed air.<p>

He walked past her house. The lights in her bedroom were off; his insomniac princess was actually asleep. That was good, because he wouldn't be able to look at her right now. Guilt over things he hadn't done still weighed heavily upon him.

He found himself in front of the old house without really thinking about it. He was met at the door, and guided inside. People were moving around, sitting him down, doing things for him. All voices sounded like they were underwater; all except the one in his head. The only thing he could hear clearly was Julie's loathing. It ate at his brain and made him want to tear out his hair. The powder was in his nose before he knew it, and soon enough, the voice was gone.


End file.
